by Jaye Peaches
“Yes, Sir.” I turned on my feet and left them to it.
Eliza’s arrival triggered another spell of unbecoming attitude. I failed to cater for changes in my routine.
Eliza exuded a wonderful morning persona, which reflected Jason’s attitude but not mine. The banter between Jason and Eliza riled me. She made him smile and laugh with her wit while he put on his running shoes and they compared fitness levels—how long it took to run a mile, who could get their pulse back down the quickest.
“Jason, your resting pulse is ridiculously low. What do you do, meditate?” Eliza pressed her finger into his wrist. Watching her touch him, my own pulse spiked.
Jason shrugged. “I go to the gym regularly. I don’t need to be a Buddhist.”
She laughed. “I run a couple of times a week. It’s only when you visit I do it every day. You’re such a fitness freak.”
“It’s a good way to have a catch-up meeting.” He dropped his arm and patted her back.
The green goddess of jealous went rampant in my mind. They went running every time he came over to the States! He’d never told me. I pictured the pair of them jogging, laughing, japing, while I what? Mopped up Joshua’s dribble.
“Would you like a drink before you go, Eliza?” I asked in a feinted polite tone.
“No thanks, Gemma. Jason and I usually grab something from a vendor.”
Again, she reinforced the notion the jog was a familiar activity. Why did she get to spend quality time with my husband, didn’t she have her own?
“We’ll be back in half an hour or so, Gemma. Will you still be here?” Jason asked.
I slammed a cup under the coffee dispenser. “No,” I snapped. “We’ll be gone.” I didn’t know where. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Well, have a good day out,” he said, but I ignored the words, the sharp tone beneath, warned me.
I rammed a few nappies in the messenger bag, a drinking cup for Joshua, and a map of New York. What had I planned, anyway? I couldn’t think straight. I kept seeing Jason and Eliza.
Rattled, not thinking straight, I sent Jason an impulsive text.
: Why did you never tell me you went running with Eliza?
No reply.
Given my mood, the day went better than I anticipated. Probably because I had nowhere else to go but upwards. Joshua settled better than the previous day. We visited the zoo, and I let Amando push the buggy. In the afternoon, following Joshua’s brief nap in the pushchair under the parasol, I took him to the Children’s Museum of Manhattan, where we had a fun time with interactive exhibits that suited his age.
As I bathed Joshua and gave him his bedtime bottle, he held it himself and dazzled me with his blue eyes, and it was as if Jason was looking back at me. A wave of contriteness hit me, and tears welled in my eyes.
Shit, what is wrong with me? Jealous, disrespectful, and foul tempered. I was supposed to be having a mini holiday with my son and keeping Jason happy.
I cooked dinner and waited for him to come back to the apartment. I heard the elevator ping, dashed out to the foyer, and knelt.
“Master.” I stared at his shoes.
“Gemma.” He rocked on his soles.
“Dinner is nearly ready, Sir, and Joshua has been a good boy today. He missed his daddy.” I hesitated before saying the next few words. “So did I.”
Tears trickled down my face, and Jason took a deep breath.
“I’m sure.” He walked past me.
After Jason had showered and changed, we ate in silence again. Beneath my poised exterior, I burst with the need to have him take me, do whatever he wanted with me.
Just do something, Jason!
He pushed his plate to one side. “You hate being neglected, don’t you?” He leaned back in his chair. “I’m used to being here alone. My little jogs with Eliza are as close to socialising as I get when I stay here. Contrary to what you make think, I don’t hang out with local Doms. I don’t do clubs or restaurants. I run, work, and eat. Oh, and I miss you, too.”
I looked at my half-eaten food, my shoulders sagging and appetite shot to pieces. I’d fucked up. Why had I sent the stupid text?
Charging out of the room, I headed to the bathroom sink and splashed water onto my hot face. Taking a deep breath, I went back to him. He remained at the dining room table fingering his untouched wine glass.
I knelt by his chair.
“Please, Master, resolve this. Please,” I implored. “I had a lovely day with Josh. We went to the zoo and a wonderful children’s museum. He missed you. I missed you. Being away from home, I’m rubbish at adapting. You can do it. I can’t.”
“What do you want me to do, Gemma? Beat the shit out of you? Fuck you to oblivion? Would either resolve this? You have been rude, discourteous to my colleague, and self-absorbed. I don’t need to spank you or have sex. I don’t need them when I’m here. I work and, if I’m lucky, I might watch a film or read for pleasure. That’s rare. I can’t believe you are jealous of Eliza. She’s not even my type, and it is insulting you think I would be interested in anyone but you.” He glanced down at me.
I shattered at the disappointment on his face. The physical pain in my belly and the anguish at his words tore me apart. “Then let me go home. Why am I here if you don’t want me or need me? I can’t do this, Jason. I’ve lost my submission.”
“I do need you. What I need is to come home to my wife at the end of the day, have her smile, and remind me why I work so hard. I haven’t the time or energy to feed your submission. I withdraw, as I am entitled to do. Consent works both ways. You’re going to do this yourself. I can’t maintain consistency on my own. Prove to me you can be submissive without my attention on you the whole time.” He scraped the chair back and left me for his study.
I remained on the floor, stunned. I couldn’t recall a time when Jason had shuttered his dominance, leaving me unguided. They hurt, both his words and withdrawal. It wasn’t a punishment. This wasn’t how Jason punished, but his consent mattered as much as mine. Withdrawing it left me speechless and confused.
I stood up, took a deep breath. The ball had rebounded back into my court. I had to find a way back to him and re-engage my Dominant, feed him my submission without him digging it out from where I’d buried it.
That night, I slept next to him, listened to his soft breathing and occasional murmur. Beneath his calm façade, lurked his own stresses and, much as I wanted to reach out and touch him, I held back. My neediness wouldn’t solve the problem. I had to start with the basics. This wasn’t about sex or kink. First, I had to reestablish service.
Chapter 11. Nightmare
The next day I rose early, laid out breakfast, and made fresh coffee. When Joshua woke, I brought him to greet Jason as he emerged from the bathroom. Jason spent some time playing with his son on the floor of the great room. They built towers out of building blocks. More accurately, Jason built and Joshua knocked them down.
“He’s a demolition man.” I smiled, wiping down the kitchen worktop.
“Probably, he likes the noise,” said Jason.
Joshua kicked the day off on a brighter note for me.
No morning run for Jason—he’d conference calls to make to the UK. Wednesday passed without incident, and I put aside my needy nature, his disappointment in my behaviour, and accepted he wasn’t going to punish or force me into a submissive place.
Welcoming him home in the evening, I asked how his day went, and he mentioned a few salient matters then asked about my activities with Joshua. At least we could talk about ordinary things.
After the meal, I offered to wash and massage his feet. He accepted graciously. When finished, I remained on the floor, clothed, as I wasn’t going to be accused of flaunting myself, and read quietly without trying to attract his attention.
The next morning, Eliza appeared for another jog about the park. I was polite, offering beverages, commenting on the inclement weather, and asking how her husband was doing.
“Oh
Vincent is good. Now. Has been ill with liver disease. He had an operation recently to remove a benign tumour. Scared us shitless, though, waiting for the results. Hopefully, he will be over the worst soon.”
A guilty lump descended my throat when she commented she normally ran with her husband, and his health problems had curtailed her exercise because she didn’t like running in the park on her own.
“Jason offered to join me. I’m such a coward when it comes to early morning runs.” She patted Jason’s arm as if to say thank you.
That evening, I asked if we could invite Eliza and her husband around on our last evening in New York.
“Typical British grub. I could cook for them. She liked my food last time she visited us in the UK.” I recalled a happier gathering when, on my own turf, I’d not felt threatened or out of sorts.
“Okay, if she has the time. I’ll ask if Vincent is able to join us, too. He is a recruitment consultant. Excellent head hunter. I’ve used him to find good managers.”
The icy atmosphere around us disintegrated. I slept better, woke refreshed and ready for adventure.
Friday, while Joshua slept in his buggy, I visited a few art galleries, each with its own style and uniqueness. The staff in attendance were helpful with my queries about attracting visitors and advertising. One owner in particular very generous with his time and information and offered me names of artists who were keen to exhibit in Europe. I scribbled down the details in my notebook.
Plans rocketed about my head and, while Joshua toddled about the apartment, I tracked behind him with the notepad and jotted down my ideas about exhibitions and garnering publicity.
When Jason arrived home, I was all ready to spew out my excitement before he had even taken his jacket off, but I remembered my place and asked him how his day had gone. He did enquire about my visits, as we set the dining room table together and he opened the wine bottle. I dampened down my enthusiasm and explained my findings in a concise fashion. He applauded my success with a brief kiss of my cheek. I swooned slightly as his lips brushed my skin.
The doorman announced the arrival of our guests over the intercom.
Vincent wasn’t well. You could see the loss of muscle and fat all about his body. His skin had a yellow pallor, too, and his wrinkles made him older in appearance than his actual years. Eliza, for all my criticisms she was unsympathetic and hard, kept a close eye on her husband. She demonstrated all the behaviours I had failed to show Jason at the beginning of the week: topping up his water, complimenting him on his working practices, and proudly praising his stoicism during his illness.
I fingered my diamond collar necklace, and it seemed to burn into my skin. She caught my eye, and I smiled in reply. She was a true friend of Jason’s, and I suspected she knew what Jason was in his private life. On previous occasions, she’d stared at my necklace and the J initialled padlock descending from the diamond-encrusted chain. I’d assumed she was calculating his value, which was significant. Perhaps, re-thinking her curiosity, she saw its value as less intrinsic and more symbolic.
In the kitchen, as I loaded up the coffee machine, without banging cupboard doors and clattering teaspoons, Eliza asked about my gallery plans. Although she lacked experience in the world of art, she admitted to being a fan of some artistic schools and wanted to know which of the galleries I’d visited might suit her tastes.
We chatted about different artists while sitting on the curved sofa, sipping our coffees. Jason discussed with Vincent the challenges of divesting unprofitable subsidiaries and the impact on the work force—enforced redundancies.
Jason, appearing more relaxed than I’d seen him all week, bemoaned the challenges. “To make so obvious somebody’s lack of ability in front of their colleagues, ticking off selection criteria and implying an employee with many years’ experience doesn’t have the same value as a recent recruit…it’s a demeaning practice, but necessary.” Jason sighed.
“It happens the world over, Jason. Don’t worry. Companies like mine pick up the pieces and hopefully give people a future,” said Vincent, his face sagging and his eyelids drooping.
A little after ten o’clock an attentive Eliza took home a pale-faced Vincent, and I was left with my husband, whose intentions towards me remained uncertain.
“Gemma, come here.” He waved me over to his chair. I knelt between his legs. “I want to say I’m pleased with you, especially tonight. You’ve done what I’ve asked. Kept focused on those about you. No bratty or sulky behaviour.”
“Thank you.” I glowed, filled with warmth at being back in his good books. I tentatively stroked his leg. “Please, I would ask you reconsider your withdrawal. I just…you do want this, don’t you? My submission? I haven’t…. You said if we stop, we’d start again from scratch. I couldn’t bear to think I ruined what we had.”
“Babe, you haven’t ruined anything.” He captured my hand and sandwiched it between his own. “I’m not perfect, and I think you forget that sometimes. No Dominant is, and we make mistakes, communicate badly, and create the wrong expectations. We both needed to step back and see what lies beneath, what existed when we were vanilla. I’ve longed all week for you and held back from dominating, and you’ve been submissive without my asking. It’s there, babe, all the time in us both.”
“I was mad at you then disappointed in my behaviour.” I rested my head on his lap. “It’s been a confusing week.
“It will never end between us, Gem. What changes is what we wrap around it—parents, jobs, these will all interfere, but none of them will change us.”
“What now? I want to show you my submission beyond washing your feet.” I held my breath, waiting for my Master to return to me.
“I’m going to do what you’ve wanted me to do all week. You’re going to be a good girl and take it all.”
“Yes, Master.” I shut my eyes, and the trembling started. Not with fear. It was the trepidation, the sense of what was to come, the pain and pleasure of my submission. “Thank you, Sir.” I added, opening my eyes and those stunning blue eyes met mine, kindling an arousal that had been dormant for days.
***
He hung me from the upper ring on the bedroom wall. Tied by the wrists, my toes tickling the floor, struggling to grip.
“Master!” I swallowed hard. I’d not been expecting this. He didn’t suspend by the wrists, not often, and I couldn’t remember the last time.
Jason caressed my back with his hand, sweeping down and groping my bottom. I shivered as he repeated the action and, after each pass, I breathed deeply, focusing inwards and emptying my head of unnecessary worries.
My pose wasn’t so bad once I relaxed.
I tensed again when I saw the vicious single-tailed whip. The tail lashed about my buttocks, and I hollered into the wall. I glanced over my shoulder and behind me was Jason, stripped naked, one hand gripping the whip handle, the other his thick cock. With a swing of his arm, he continued to lay into me. The stinging, sharp pain of the lash swished about my bottom, and I juddered with every blow, unable to contain my arousal, which crept out, unveiling that part of me I could not fathom—my masochism. As I screeched, out of the corner of my eye, I could see his hardening erection. My sadist had come out to play, and the masochist within me moaned with delight.
***
Standing in the bathroom, I rotated and peered at my backside. There was the pain, the awful and nearly debilitating sear of broken flesh. Seeing the red welts and blood oozing down from the slits in my skin, I screamed. It was far worse than I’d thought. Staring at the mirrored image of my bottom, I saw the blood thickened and the stripes deepened as if they were being held apart and my inner tissue exposed. A horror movie played out before my eyes. I screamed in terror.
How could he? What has he done to me?
“Gemma! Gemma!” Jason shook my arm. “Stop screaming, you’ll wake Joshua.”
I jolted hard, sweating, shivering violently. Next to me lay Jason, his eyes wide open with concern. I sprang up, l
osing the sheet, and in the darkness, I tried to see my behind.
“Babe?” He reached out.
“No, don’t touch me.” I shrank away. “I’m bleeding.”
“Babe, you’re not bleeding. You’ve had a nightmare.”
I took note of my surroundings. I wasn’t standing in the bathroom. I brought my hand up to my eyes—no blood. The vividness of the dream had been overpowering.
“I thought, the whip…you didn’t cut me?” I rubbed my hands together.
“Gem, darling, no. You subspaced on me.”
When he reached out to me again, I let him take me in his arms.
“Oh God, it was so real.”
“It’s a dream, Gem. Nothing else. Put your head on my chest.”
The remedy of his steady heartbeat worked, as it usually did.
“Do you remember what happened this evening?” he asked.
I had a fuzzy recollection. After he started to whip me, there had been much pain then I must have drifted off. The euphoria of having him use me and take me back was overwhelming. He might have hung clamps off my labia, or was that a dream, too? Something else came back to me.
“You fucked me,” I said, laughing. “Yes, you fingered me and fucked me hard, really hard.”
“Yep. I did. You were so wet, baby. Cunt juice dripped down your legs. You went off with your little fairies, and it was divine fucking you in that state. Very fulfilling.”
“The whipping?”
“No more than a dozen. You were making such a racket, I couldn’t risk you waking Joshua, and I didn’t want to gag you.”
“It was a good scene for you, then?” I snuggled closer.
“Yes, babe. You never got your reward for being a good hostess to my friends. For being a good subbie for the rest of the week. You can have it now. I’m going to use that delightful pussy of yours and make you come.”
While he worked me into a frenzy with his tongue and hands, I kept muttering, “Oh, Sir, please, please.”
